I twittered or tweeted or whatever you want to call it this morning something like, “freakin’ out”. And I was. Freakin’ out. But only because this is the first year in about umpteen million that I have had a full-time job at the same time as I have tried to provide an over-the-top Christmas holiday experience for the beach urchins. I do not know how I managed it in the old days. It was probably because when kids are little you can wrap up just about any old kind of plastic crap. Little kids will usually be just as excited about opening up the package as what is in it.

But you have been hearing me grouse about all this stuff all month and I won’t put y’all through that again, er, except that I already have. But then. I finally looked at Twitter again this afternoon (I had forgotten all about that “freakin’ out” tweet) and AgateGal had reported on an occurrence of Thundersnow!

I have experienced thundersnow a couple of times in my life but my favorite [and first] was once when we got 10 inches of snow overnight and I had to drive my old VW Jetta over to my contractor job at the EPA at 5:30 in the morning or whatever. It was still snowing to beat the band and my vee-hickle was kind of okay about driving *through* that stuff but I remember whenever I came to a stoplight I would just plain run it. There was nobody else on the road and I knew that if I stopped, I would not get going again. The defrogging system was totally crap at on that vee-hickle at that point, so zee veendsheeld vaz all frogged up and I couldn’t see jack-shit. So I opened the windows, which all the blasted engineers always say will defrog zee veeendsheeld but, in my experience, always just makes the interior of the vee-hickle cold and doesn’t do jack-shit about defrogging zee veendsheeld.

Anyway, I was slithering and sliding and galumphing along through 10 inches of snow with the radio on and the windows open. I was wondering what the you-know-what I was doing going to work at that time of the morning in a huge snowstorm. What was I trying to prove? That I was a blasted Yooper? I am cool. I can do snow. Or not. Anyway, I got to the intersection of Plymouth Rd. and Barton Drive and the light turned red. There was NOBODY anywhere. I didn’t stop. I whaled through the red light. And, through my open window, I heard a loud clap of thunder. My first thundersnow. Life turned surreal at that point and I broke down and started laughing out loud.

We’re s’pos’d’t’ get that kind of snow overnight. We’ll see what I do tomorrow.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 18th, 2008 at 8:33 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.